


Dear Ash

by mad_like_a_lynx



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, Gen, M/M, school angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_like_a_lynx/pseuds/mad_like_a_lynx
Summary: After the events of Interzone, Ash is getting his life together. He and Eiji write each other letters.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	1. September 1985

# 

  
September 1985

  
Dear Eiji, 

First week is done. Got some dumb morale meeting later and something about evals, but for now I finally have a moment to chill. Since your list of questions was kinda long, I’ll just write what matters and skim the fat, okay? 

— I’m all set up in my dorm. My dorm, Eiji. That’s weird as hell to write.   
— Shorter isn’t my roommate but he is in the apartment down the hall. My roommate is some guy from Nevada, I think he’s arriving next week.   
— the food sucks but I never go hungry  
— counselor is pushing me for my GED. She says I could pass it easy, but because I need to learn what she calls “Independent Living,” I have to go through the whole damn process. You know, life skill shit? I thought that I was used to taking care of myself, but guess I learned all the wrong stuff. I’m the last to know, per usual  
— this GED prep stuff is supposed to give me “structure”  
— this is all real annoying but can’t be too picky when you’re sucking on Uncle Sam’s tits, I guess  
— next month they’re going to teach me how to drive. Hey, if Shorter can learn   
— I bought a sub to National Geographic, and it’s cool to have an address so I can get these kinds of things. Reminds me of being a little kid with my brother, him reading to me while I looked at all the pictures  
— everyone here is fucking everyone. except me. There has to be a joke in there somewhere, but until then you can’t say that I haven’t been good

Part of me still wonders if this was the way to go. But every time I think this way, I mull it all over, and realize that you were right, Shorter’s family is right, ect ect. I needed to do something and get my life together, and I know the specifics can be figured out later. 

  
Ps this got kind of long so I forgot to ask. How are your classes? How’s Fish? 

Dear Ash, 

Fish is still Fish, but he’s not the same as you remember him. When he returned to me with your note, he was in bad shape. That kind of distance is difficult for a real bird, let alone one made from paper. But he worked hard for you, and I’m grateful for that. 

He doesn’t move anymore, but neither do any of my paper animals. It’s like we used the last bit of magic in me to find each other again. I think I’m okay with that. 

My classes are okay, but not what I expected. I am still trying to figure out what I want to do. But it is like tessellation, like the kind Escher made. There are many shapes, but every piece is the same, repeated over and over. That is what my future look like to me. I could choose something different, but it would not change. 

Job Corps, do they help you with problem like these? I know that you worry, too. 

Love,  
Eiji 

Ps-

Do not be such a baby about GED class. Everyone know you could pass it easy. That is not the point. 

Dear Eiji, 

In every JC bathroom you’ll find these words handwritten above every mirror: “would you hire this?”. The idea is, you look in the mirror, see yourself, and then there’s this message that tells fuck ups like me to get their act together. This annoyed me the first time I saw it, and now it /really/ annoys me because the sign actually makes me think about it. 

Would I hire this? Who the fuck knows. But you’re right. Gotta suck it up.

I’m happy to hear that Fish is still Fish, even if he’s different now. I kind of understand what you mean. I’ve never had a connection with things the way you do, but everything gets harder when you’re busy with life. Guess it’s the same with magic, too. One day when you least expect it, I’m sure it’ll come back to you. 

Your classes - sounds like you could use some advice from somebody who actually has their shit together, ie, not me. Maybe that’s what that sign actually means. I got to become that person.

Right now though, I’m not. I’m trying to push some old habits away, but it's rough. I got into a scuffle with this guy Frankie in the rec room, and it was dumb because getting caught doing this kind of shit can get you thrown out of here. But he pissed me off, and that morning some asshole had stolen my shoes (yeah somebody stole my fucking SHOES. Not even real fucking converse!), so I was already in a bad mood and struggling to deal. 

They don’t let you smoke here. Considering how stressful this place can be, this is a pretty sadistic choice of rules. So after almost decking Frankie, I’m withdrawing and angry and my roommate tells me to chill and introduces me to Ozium. He stuffed the underside of the bathroom door with towels, I smoked on the toilet, then we sprayed half of that bottle on everything. It worked. Now I’m back on my medicine. 

I know I should quit, but if I have to choose between cigarettes and going to jail for crushing Frankie’s heart with a pool cue, I’m going for the cigarettes. It helps that I have Shorter to keep my head up. You might not believe it, but he keeps me out of trouble more than he gets me into it. 

I miss you. 

Love,  
Ash 

Dear Ash, 

I am sorry that you are having a hard time. I wish I could be there for you. But I can tell you few thing. Maybe it will help. Maybe you will just laugh. But this is what I think when I read your letter. 

In New York, you listened to same songs over and over on tape. I remember some lyric very well, especially ones that you say touch you. 

One I remember best, it was Joy Division song. You would say, life is just like that. That other people seem to find life easy, and to you, people might as well be walking on the air. Because life is hard for you. You are very pragmatic person. You focus on what you think you can do, not what you think impossible. So you did not try. But you are trying now

Maybe you do not see it, but you are walking on air, Ash. You have already fought the world, and now need to fight your doubt. I know you already know this, but everyone need reminder sometime. Maybe you laugh, or think it is very corny. But it is true and how I feel. 

I miss you, too.

Love,

Eiji

Ps 

I changed my major yesterday. I am now enrolled in arts and multimedia program. My mother is very upset. But it is something I chose to do for myself, and it is what feels right to me. Maybe I will regret the decision, but at least it will be my own mistake. 

I think I would be happy if I could create one beautiful thing.

Dear Eiji, 

Pragmatic, huh? I see you’ve been watching your Sesame Street. Maybe you’re right. 

Your major — that’s really fantastic, Eiji! You’re going to do great, I just know it. You have always made amazing things. Not just in your origami, but your drawings and photographs, too. 

Beautiful things — sounding like an artist already. Just remember that most beautiful things are covered in dirt

  
Love,

Ash

Dear Eiji, 

Last week was a long weekend. Shorter wanted to go see this band playing in San Diego. Of course, we’re both broke as fuck and don’t have a car, so that required some of our infamous ingenuity. We bought a map, studied the routes, and found a hub of freight cars that went north. 

I can see you shaking your head already. Well, it gets better. So, we leave the dorms with our backpacks, water bottles, cigarettes, and beer, and walk the ten miles to the tracks. We arrived around midnight, found an open boxcar, and called it home. 

It was fucking HOT (in September!!). Minutes in, Shorter is complaining, I’m pissed off, and there’s a sign of staff outside. Worse, I’m jacked up because I realize that we had yet to spike the door. 

So, I’m getting ready to spike the door with a piece of 2x4, but Shorter is telling me to keep quiet because they’re beginning to inspect the cars, and those doors are really heavy anyway, so let’s just deal later.

We hid under a tarp and a bunch of palettes. Shorter didn’t shower that day, so he’s stinking and breathing on me, I’m in pain from a palette at my back, I got splinters in my hands. A flashlight shines in our car, and minutes later, everything is shaking and the train is leaving. We crawled out, shared a beer and a couple of cigarettes, shot the shit a little then went to sleep. So, nice ride. Boring.

The train was at a stop in the yard when we woke up. Problem was, the boxcar was pitch black because, during the night, the door had shut. Yup, we’re the fucking dummies who didn’t protect the door and got our asses locked inside. This stupidity is probably why we only used to hitch. 

But obviously, I’m alive to write this to you, so you can stop making that face, okay? 

So we’re freaking the fuck out, screaming, pounding and kicking the walls, smacking them with the 2x4, going full-on Rambo. Nothing. It’s hot. REALLY fucking hot, and we’re pretty sure we’re going to die. We’re talking about rationing water and what our skeletons are going to look like and shit. The train starts moving again, and we decide to just do our best to chill until the next stop. 

Next stop, same stuff. Some guy working the tracks is outside listening to Metallica. Enter Sandman, I think? And Shorter is done. He can’t believe that he’s in this boxcar, screaming, and this guy can’t hear us and we’re going to miss the concert and probably die because of Metallica. So as the song ends, he sucks in air and screeches the falsetto of that song “Take on Me” at the top of his lungs. 

The staff found us after that. They thought it was funny. We didn’t make it to the concert. 

So, that was our weekend. Just in case you were worried that we were becoming far too domesticated. 

Love,  
Ash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought this would be a fun character study.


	2. October 1985

Dear Ash,

You did not say if Shorter was good singer or not.

Being serious, I know you do not need to hear me tell you to be careful. But I will tell you anyway, because I want you to be safe, ok? I am sorry you miss concert, though. How did you get back to Los Angeles?

I start my new classes today. It was awkward, because everyone already know each other, so I am odd man. But I am excited to show what I can do. I know that I am good. Not great, but good.Good enough to be impressive to some. That probably sound bad, but positive attention is nice.

My first big project is self portrait. But it is not only face, but body. I could not afford big mirror, so I bought a small one at store and ask friend to take picture of poses with Polaroid. I sent one to you, just for fun. When I finish, I will show you my drawing, too.

Hope that you have good week.

Love,

Eiji

Dear Eiji,

We hitched, of course. Some dude going to LA for a job. Nice guy. Nice, but uninteresting, so no story there (sure you’re glad to hear that, though). Shorter even slept the entire way home.

It’s got to be difficult drawing a full body portrait. Imagine that there is a lot to think about, but I know you’ll make something incredible. You always do.

My week was fine. Boring. Shorter hasn’t been around much because he’s busy with some kind of project, so I’ve been hanging out with the lady who lives across the hall named Jessica. She used to dance. So, you know, we got stuff in common.

She’s the oldest on the block so I call her the local old lady, and she lets me know what she thinks of that, but truth is I think she’s tough as nails. A good woman, given a bad hand.

She has a kid, Eiji. Think he’s three. He lives with her mother in Oregon, and she’s here—as she puts it— to become what he deserves. Her boyfriend got fucked up in the army and drinks too much, and between that and everything else they both lost custody last year. They are doing what they can to get him back, though. That’s more than my father ever did for Griff and me.

I admire her for this. Even with all this bullshit— a kid, Eiji!—she does what she needs to do. without complaint. Not only does she manage to look out for kids like me who call her an old lady, she keeps excellent grades and is aiming for a spot at UCLA. If she doesn’t kill me, think I could learn a lot from her.

I still have a lot of growing up to do, but I’m trying.

Love,

Ash

Ps- cute picture. You look happy.

Dear Ash,

I am feeling frustrated today. You probably know a better word in English, but in Japan, we call this ikigai. Reason for living. My life, it lacks ikigai. It makes me anxious and uneasy.

I know many people feel this way, and most of all, I am young, with chance to become something different. But it does not stop the feeling. 

Believe it is like this. I see everyone at school, with family and girlfriends. They have “normal” lives. They get to be “normal” people. It is hard to see how easy normal is for some, when you are not normal.

I do not feel capable of doing what is expected of me. Get good job, make a family. These thing seem impossible for me, something I am not even sure I want. But, it is ikigai, and it must be comforting. It scare me to think about still feeling this way when I am not young anymore.

I forget what artist said it, but I remember hearing that choosing to be an artist often mean choosing to not have many same experience as other people. Unless you are lucky enough to find other artist, you are often in small room, alone. You do not often date or do social thing. You must choose. Choose between two parts of living. Art often does not let you be picky. When it choose you, you do not always like making art, often are unhappy doing it, but you are much more miserable without it.

It was like this with pole vault, too. The training and pressure was very hard, but that moment flying in the air. That is ikigai. Somewhere along the way, I lost that.

Hm. I am sure this make little sense, but I know you understand. With ikigai, it is easier to live life.

I am sorry that this letter is confusing and sad. I just wanted to write to you.

Love,

Eiji

Dear Eiji,

I can drive!

Or, I can drive around the JC building. I haven’t left the lot yet.

I’ll tell you, you can see where that government money is going. All the cars they train us in? Money. Everyone talks about the big yellow Hummer they let you drive for the final test, because I guess being ten feet off the ground gives these kids dopamine. But we’re all broke and looking for a future, so guess I get it. It’s nice to look down once in awhile. 

Still, there’s this crap when I can’t find the books I need for class in the library. America!

My counselor says that learning to drive is especially important for “my development,” because it will give me the freedom I’ve never had before. I can go anywhere I want. No longer at the mercy of others. That sort of thing.

So, the first car I drove was this really ridiculous white Mustang.I hated it, driving that thing felt like lugging a metal beat around. The second, a Toyota something, was better.

They train us three at a time, so while waiting for my turn I sit in the back seat and get some sleep in. After starting at the office, I get less sleep these days. Other times, I watch the buildings and streets pass by. There are no seasons in this part of California, but there’s something calming about yellow rolling hills, palm trees, and a fresh sun that makes everything glow.

The world is a beautiful place sometimes. I just wish it wasn’t so hard to live in.

Love,

Ash, the Road Warrior

Dear Ash,

You have not mention office before. Is this new job? I think you say last month sometime, that everyone need to hold job there?

I am so happy you learn to drive! Your counselor is right. It really will give you freedom you never have before. Are you also saving up for car?

I remember first time I learn to drive. You know I have bad relationship with mother. That have not change much, since coming back to Japan. If anything, it is worse with father gone. I wish I did not live at home.

But after learning to drive, I can get away. Sometimes I just drive to beach. I sit in sand, and think about things, because it is quiet and I can be alone. I think about how ocean separate us. I think one day it will not be so far.

Sorry that I do not have much to say this letter. School is busy, and mom and I get into big fight. It was not over anything important. Sometimes I think we fight just because we are both sad. It feels good for awhile, until it does not anymore.

I attach photo of my self portrait project. The hands are weird but I am happy with it. I got a good grade, too.

Love,

Eiji

Dear Eiji,

Yeah, we got jobs. Everything here is very structured. I didn’t have one my first month because I was doing my GED prep (just ended last week, taking the test next weekend), but Shorter has been working in the kitchen. He’s basically a cafeteria lady; all smiles, cracking hundreds of eggs every morning, making jokes as he serves blobs of chicken salad.

He’s happy. I can tell. I’m happy for him, too.

I wanted to work with him in the kitchen, but they didn’t have any open positions, so they have me in the admissions office pouring coffee and shit. It’s boring work, worst part being I have to be up at 5 am. I have classes all day, drivers ed once a week after that, then I have to eat and do my homework, and honestly I’m so exhausted, but at least there’s little time to be depressed.

Still. I miss smoking when I want. And reading. And weed. When I’m done with all of this I’m going to get so stoned I’ll sleep for three days.

Your mom — that sucks, and I get it. I’m sorry to hear that things have been rough for you, too. Don’t feel bad about being sad, though. That Eiji-optimism is great, but you need time to feel lost and sad and all that teen bullshit too. When Shorter or Jessica tell me to get over myself, I do, but I still let myself be a petulant teen every once awhile. I deserve it. You deserve it. Let yourself feel all the shit and let it run its course. I don’t got a lot of good advice to give, but I do think it’s important to feel this stuff.

Also. Brighter-ish note. Next week is Halloween. I hate Halloween, Eiji. How do I get out of this Halloween party Shorter wants to drag me to?

Love,

Ash

Ps - your project is amazing. I wish I had more to say than that, but it’s really that good.


End file.
